


Truth.

by NegansOtherWife



Series: Tumblr Requests [12]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Rants, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: The truth will set you free, but first, it'll piss you off.





	Truth.

**Author's Note:**

> TUMBLR REQUESTS ARE MY LIFE!

You went from finery and silk to itchy tags and worn out cotton.

That was okay, you’d never really saw the point of the finer things in life.

You went from lounging around all day to working upwards of thirty-six hours a week.

Well, that transition had been especially hard but new ties had softened the blow. You’d befriended all of the girls assigned to the laundry room and could honestly say that you had friends to completely rely on. It felt nice not to be lonely. To have a conversation that wasn’t drenched in poorly concealed jealousy.

But what you couldn’t seem to get over, after almost two months of having all the benefits of your ‘wife status’ stripped away, was his absence in your life. 

That hurt the most. And the cruelty of it all? He’d never even given you the chance to miss him. 

Negan was always nearby.

He seemed to always be sashaying across the main floor when you were there, always found an excuse to complain about the sheets that you’d spent hours tirelessly scrubbing until your fingers bled. But worst of all, he’d taken a liking to a perch above the railing that spanned the permitter of the dining hall. He’d watch, a brooding presence, from the railing as you moved and interacted with the Sanctuary’s people. Sometimes you’d catch his eye mid-conversation and your new found joy would die in your throat, choking you. He seemed completely unaffected and more than any emotion, more than the resentment and the anger…you were deeply and irrevocably disappointed. 

He’d replaced you with an annoying and giggly blonde, the type of girl that you’d both joked and mocked in the privacy of his room. Each time you saw her, the reminder that you weren’t good enough, clawed at your skin until you’d begun to shoulder a hardened husk. 

 _But it was better this way_ , you told yourself, meeting his eyes as you stood in what the general population called the ‘slop line’. Negan stood in his now familiar position, bent over the metal railing as he dangled Lucille between precarious fingertips. At his side, both Simon and Dwight wore a sympathetic expression. You shrugged them off, tossing your hand up in a greeting; pretending as if you were okay. 

A warm hand squeezed your shoulder in a comforting embrace, and you peered back to give Kyra a grateful expression. Her butterscotch eyes twinkled softly as she promised, “They’ll be more hands to hold, Y/N.” 

Always the supportive roommate. You squeezed her hand gently in acknowledgment before grabbing a metal tray. The two of you had spent many nights talking about your torrid love life, and you both agreed it would be better to wait several more months before you started seeing anyone, so as to avoid inflicting Negan’s ire on an unsuspecting individual. He could be selfish. You above all others new that. 

Whoever you gave your love to next would have to be resilient, chances are they’d probably have to fight for you.

After being plated a small cup of vegetables and roasted chicken, you took your seat with several other girls at a table situated in the far right corner of the room. Far from Negan. The thought didn’t calm you like it would someone else. If he wanted something—to taunt or talk—no amount of distance could stop him from seeking out that person out. 

Negan was extremely unabashed. 

Eventually, with the help of your tight-knit group, you began to ignore his presence and chat about nothing in particular. You laughed and prodded Kyra with the others until she admitted in hushed whispers which Savior she’d been seeing. You laughed until it hurt, sharing secrets and passing innuendos around the table like old friends. It felt so good to be happy.

“Guess who?” You tensed slightly as your vision went dark but soon recognized the voice.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Is it Wyatt?” You asked rhetorically, placing your hands over his and removing them from your face. He grinned, letting his hands rest on your shoulders before giving them a brief squeeze. He didn’t remove his hands, neither did you. 

“What are you doing here, Wyatt?” Kyra sniffed, shaking her head at her brother’s antics.

“Can’t I say ‘hi’ to my sister and her lovely friends.”

“Hi,” She deadpanned.

Rolling your eyes at their bickering, you scooted over to allow him room beside you on the bench. An action to which Kyra responded with a heavy sigh.

“At least someone wants me here.” He squeezed your shoulder before letting his arm drop. 

You’d liked Wyatt from the moment you met him and had quickly learned that he and Kyra were a packaged deal. Kyra feigned an indifferent facade to her brother’s presence but you knew how close they were to each other. Fraternal twins. They had the same mahogany skin and gentle almond-shaped eyes, but their similarities ended there. Kyra was tiny, almost pixie-ish. Wyatt was a hulking giant, layered in muscle, and broad-shouldered. He had a chipped front tooth from a prior accident but you thought that it added character to his appearance. 

All in all, Wyatt was the polar opposite of Negan and you welcomed his sunny disposition. 

“Good day?” He asked, nudging you when the others resumed their conversation. 

He was so attentive, and you weren’t used to this amount of attention from a male. It’d been so long since you’d had a monogamous relationship and you found yourself recently entertaining the idea of one with Wyatt. He made you feel safe…

You held out your pruned hands for him as an answer.

“Such pretty hands,” He gently took them in a surprisingly tender grip, glancing around briefly before placing a gentle kiss on your palm. “They shouldn’t have to work so hard.” 

You weren’t prepared for the way your heart fluttered. 

“Isn’t that fucking cute!” Negan’s cold voice boomed across the mess hall and Wyatt dropped your hands like they were hot coal. “And here I thought that my big dick had ruined her for any other man.” He chortled, waving in Wyatt’s direction. “I hope you like my sloppy seconds.”

Some of the Savior’s joined in his laughter. Your face burned with humiliation as a good portion of the room turned in your direction.

“Hey,” Kyra reached across the table to squeeze your hand, “just ignore him.”

“Y-yeah,” You nodded. “You’re right.”

You wouldn’t show him how much his words hurt. 

You’d bowed your head, trying to make yourself seem smaller, and Wyatt had done the same so that you could see how his eyes shimmered with sincerity when he said, “We all have to do things to survive. No one’s judging you for that.”

“Thank you,” You mouthed. 

You had tried. God, how you’d tried. Was he punishing you? Once upon a time, you’d been his favorite, he’d bring you gifts and lay with you for hours. He’d treasured you. Or had it all been your imagination? You wanted to know…

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Kyra watched you stand, your movements stiff and jerky at first until you’d gotten your legs to cooperate. 

Is this what you had to look forward to? The occasional offhanded comment every time someone got close to you. The expectancy that every time you’d regained your footing, he’d be there to kick your legs out from underneath you?

“Hey.” He blatantly ignored you, instead, rattling off a ranking of his current and past wives. How fortunate of him to rank you #3. You tried again. “Negan!”

“…she was too fucking clingy, that’s what it came down to…”

You ears seemed to burn, his words becoming a dull roar. With rigid movements, you picked up a discarded metal tray and lifted it above your head; bringing it down onto the hard surface of an empty table. “WHAT!” **BANG**. “IS!” **BANG**. “YOUR!” **BANG**. “FU-CKING!” **BANG**. “PROBLEM!” By the time you were finished the room had fallen completely silent and you had gained his full attention. A lone bead of sweat crept from your hairline in exertion, you smirked faintly. Of course, he chooses now to listen. 

“Excuse me, little girl. Just who in the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” A hushed silence, one more quite than after your outburst, fell across the large room.

“Y/N,” You felt Kyra pulling on your arm with a pleading whisper, “now’s _not_ the time.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed, flashing brightly in the limited lighting. “You better listen to your friend, girlie. You’re on thin fucking ice as it is.”

“No!” You tugged your arm from Kyra’s grip and she backed away, taking the tray from your hand and watching you cautiously. “What is your problem?” You asked again. 

“Me,” He snorted, looking down at you as if you were nothing more than a blip on his radar. You probably were. “You’re the one causing a goddamn scene. I should put your head on a pike and—”

“So why don’t you?” You interrupted. “Or is it something else?”

You’d tossed around the likelihood. Had even tried to march up to his office to confront him in the beginning, only to always be turned away by someone keeping guard. “Just go on and say whatever the _fuck_ you have to say to me!”

“What I have to say?” He leaned further over the railing, his knuckles whitening in their grip. “Do you really want me to tell this entire fucking room what I have to say about your clingy and unremarkable ass?” 

Your lower lip trembled as he continued, “Or should I skip that shit and tell everyone what they’ve been guessing—let them hear the nitty-fucking-gritty details? How you begged me on your knees to stay like the desperate little whore you are—the very same day if I recall correctly—that I threw you out.” He cocked Lucille in your direction shoulders rolling with a shrug.

You weren’t sure what to say. 

Negan straightened with a satisfied huff, throwing Lucille over his shoulder as he rocked on his heels. “ _I love you, Negan. You don’t have to say it back, but I thought you should know.”_ He mocked. 

Your eyes widened and you took an audible breath. It hurt just like it was yesterday. You’d told him you loved him and the next day you’d awoken alone in his bed. Simon had been at the door, a garbage bag full of your things. 

Oh, you were such a silly little girl. You’d actually thought he could love you back. 

He stood expectantly, waiting for your resolve to crack as some of the Savior’s released a chorused laughter. 

“You’re an asshole, Negan.”

“Yeah, but you knew that.” He quipped.

“You’re right,” You nod. “I did know that. In fact, we all know what a huge asshole you can really be. I mean—you have a fucking death count higher than the goddamn grim reaper and let’s not forget the god complex bigger than Donald Trump’s ego.”

His amused expression dropped from his handsome features. “Watch it, Y/N…”

“Oh, no.” You mocked, suddenly gaining a second wind. He’d humiliated you, but now it was over. No more walking on eggshells and wondering what he would hold over your head. It was all out in the open—and you _owned_ your hurt. “You started this…”

“And I always finish it.” He warned. 

Dutifully noted.

“I’m not going to sit here and scream at you. No, you’re used to that. I’m going to stand here—look you in the eyes—and simply say that you’re scared.” You stated calmly. 

Something flashed behind his eyes briefly but he was too high up for you to identify the emotion. “Maybe it was too much for you, and—”

His harsh laughter caused you to falter. “I ain’t scared of shit. You want the truth—? I got tired of a stretched out, dirty old pussy.” He spat, causing you to jump back to avoid being showered in his saliva. 

“You don’t mean that.” You said, letting the tears you’d held at bay freely fall. 

“I do.” He insisted stoically.

“Oh, well in that case.” You took a deep breath, kicking your scuffed shoes against the concrete flooring. “It’s clear that you’ve never had any feelings for me—I get that now, thank you.” 

“You’re mighty welcome,” He cheeked, letting his hands come together in a slow clap. “Give the lady a prize.”

“ _No_ , thank you, for helping me realize the truth.” You continue. “That I was foolish for thinking that there was something behind your cruel intentions—something human—when the truth is you’re just a sociopathic liar that gets off on belittling others because you had a shitty minimum waged job, and you somehow think the world owes you retribution.” 

“You want more truth? The fact that you have so many wives don’t make you look like a _fucking badass_ ,” You mock, watching the way his shoulders tensed.

“It makes you look extremely lonely,” You spit, “and _pathetic_. Trust me, I’ve heard it said behind your back a shit ton of times since I started _slumming_ it with the masses. And I’ve heard you’re offhanded comments these past several weeks: I’m a needy _slut_ and _goddamn_ baggage.” You’d only named a few. 

“Are. You. Done?” His voice is like an icy heat. 

“Not quite,” You laugh undeterred. “You wan’a sit here and mock my past? Claim that I’m the one with baggage when you carry a bat around that you named after a dead ex-wife—who sadly—can’t even escape you after death. How does it feel to know that you _hate_ yourself so much that you have to relentlessly sabotage everything good that crosses your path because you think you don’t deserve it! I knew all that—and I _still_ choose to love you.” Your voice had gone hoarse from your shouting but you continued to soldier on. 

“Jokes on me! Go on— _laugh_. Laugh you fucking cowards! Haha! Ha!” You mockingly clutched your side, realizing that you might have been coming off a little crazed. “It’s fucking funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?” He spat out between clenched lips; still, he didn’t move from his perch. 

“The _idea_ that you even deserved my affection,” You shook your head. “ _Oh, boo-fucking-hoo! Look at me—I’m Negan and my wife actually tolerates me! Fuck, she actually has feelings for me and isn’t using me? I’m going to act like an inconsolable asshole and treat her like shit because I’m unable to return basic-human- **fucking** -emotions!”_

You paused, waiting for him to react, maybe order some of his minions to whisk you away; but he stood still as stone.

“What? You didn’t like my impression?” You feigned shock. “This is the part where you laugh, Negan. This is the funny part! Because it’s fucking ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s fucking crazy and inconceivable to you that someone could actually love you! Well, I did. I loved you. There I fucking said it again—I. Love. You.” Your thumb jabbed relentlessly into your chest, hoping to drive home the concept. 

“So go ahead—mock me! I’m waiting for you to utterly humiliate me again, and make me wish that I had starved and died out there instead of ever meeting you!” You threw your arms above your head and spun in a complete circle. His eyes widened at your long-held confession. 

Pointing to Simon, you asked, “Do you want to laugh?”

He shook his head, giving you a sad, small smile. 

You turned to a nameless Savior. “How about you? You found it pretty funny only minutes ago.”

Utter silence.

“No one. Fine. ” You shrugged, laughing breathlessly. It felt so good to speak your mind. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen, Negan. I’m going to keep moving on like you saw me doing moments before; maybe I’ll die alone, maybe I’ll find someone in this goddamn factory that is brave enough to say they actually love me someday… But you should know that I’ve spent our entire separation realizing something: I l-love myself, and I’m way too fucking g-good for **you**!” Your words caught in your throat, the repressed emotions from before resurfacing. Collecting yourself, your shoulders sagged and you wrapped your arms around yourself for protection.  

“I loved you, Negan, just not anymore. Okay? How can I after all of this?” You finished quietly, conscious of the entire room that watched you with rapt attention. You started to leave but stopped short, his stoic expression giving nothing away. Maybe you accomplished something today, _maybe_. Maybe not. Hell, you probably went and made your situation a lot shittier, but you felt so much lighter. Free. There’d been a time when you wished for him to take you back. Not anymore. “If you ever entertained the idea of loving me, if you _even_ cared… Just leave me alone, please?”

With another word, you left. You’d said all that he needed to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment or kudo, please? I'll be your bestie. x


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